Eternal Penance? Pt. 03

"Damn, I love the taste and feel of a good cock. I did not expect you to be so...enthusiastic. We are out of time, but we will complete your assessment the same time next week."

She caressed my straining manhood.

"Until then, no cumming. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. No sex until I return to you."

She slapped my erection playfully. "That is NOT what I said. If a woman wants you, you will comply. But no cumming. I get to do that as part of your assessment."

I realized that in a week's time, it was possible someone would take a liking to me. "Um, ma'am, could you engage the block?"

I saw mischief in her eyes. "Oh, no. That would take all the fun out of it. In fact..."

She tapped on her device again. "I just entered a command override. NOBODY can engage your block until I release the override."

Oh, shit. She saw the recognition in my expression and grinned.

She traced her fingertip along my tumescence.

"That will be all, Ensign."

"But...but..." I indicated my condition.

"You heard me. Dismissed."

It was three decks down and virtually the other side of the ship to get back to my quarters.

A nude male crew-member was not out of the ordinary, of course. Even one sporting an erection was not that unusual.

But a male sporting a throbbing, pre-cum dripping hard-on, his body covered with a sheen of perspiration, his hair wet and disheveled, was out of place. Add to that the fact I smelled heavily of her scent...her arousal...several people smelled me before they saw me.

And when they saw me, it was apparent that whoever I had been with had been serviced well, and I had been left very, very needy.

It was definitely a walk of shame.

I managed to get by the dozens of my new shipmates and their gazes, sometimes laughter, feigning dignity.

When the door to my shared quarters slid open, it was of course my fortune that all of my roommates were sitting in our common area.

"Well hell, someone got rode hard and put away wet!" Ensign Amora proclaimed, chuckling.

Sabrina's eyes widened a bit. She had "utilized" my services in the academy. I detected a bit of jealousy as she regarded the bruising from hickies on my chest, the finger indentations on my arms, and the long fingernail scratches extending down my back.

Lieutenant Washington may not have been vocal, but she otherwise did not hold back in the least. I would have these "battle scars" to prominently display for days.

Seaman Davis tried in vain to hide the erection he suddenly sprang forth. When Amora looked at him in disgust, he stammered, "I'm sorry. It isn't for you...I'm ju-just envious. It must have been fantastic. Ca-can you tell me about it later?"

Sabrina said, "Oh hell, tell us about it now. You look like you've lost a round with an Endirian Tiger."

I demurred, "What I need is a hot shower..."

Amora agreed, "Yes, please. You reek."

As I let the hot water wash away the scent, the fluids, and the occasional dab of blood from scratches, I considered my predicament. There was nothing for it. I had certainly experienced much more extensive orgasm denial before. But that had been with the "help" of a block, whether ethereal or physical. This time I was perfectly capable of cumming; I had just been ordered in no uncertain terms not to do so.

I would just lie low for the next week. There were all kinds of trainings and orientation events scheduled. I had to get accustomed to my new duties. surely I could manage to be celibate for a week.

When I walked back into the common area to get a snack, clean, and thankfully flaccid, Amora was sitting on a couch looking at a tablet. As I entered, she looked up at me, regarding me before returning to her reading.

She shouted, "Sabrina! Come in here, you've got to see this!"

Sabrina came out of her room and sat next to Amora, looking at the tablet also. "Oh my god!"

Amora glanced up at me again, but addressed Sabrina, "Is that accurate?"

Sabrina read the section referenced, "Yeah...I wouldn't have phrased it that way, but yeah, I'd say so."

Amora regarded me with new...appreciation?

It had become blatantly obvious whatever they were reading involved me.

"What?"

Amora replied, "Lt. Washington is nothing if not efficient. Her report to the Captain on you is already out."

I felt a heat of embarrassment wash over me. "But that was supposed to be addressed to the Captain!"

"It is addressed to the Captain, Ensign Studly. But it is copied to the 25 members of the command staff. And I can assure you from experience, that it has already been leaked to the other 535 members of the crew. The women, anyway."

Shit.

I walked over to look over her shoulder at the report. She held up her hand to stop me, "Uh-uh. Female eyes only. Sit your sweet ass down and I'll read you the highlights."

"Keep in mind, this is written in a sort of code."

"Ensign O'Brien is a talented orator. He is skilled at hitting all the right points to get his point across. He seems to be able to orate tirelessly until the subject of his efforts is completely satisfied with his efforts. I was not left wanting, but do look forward to like conversations."

Sabrina laughed. "He does enjoy giving head."

Amora scanned some more, "Oh, here's one. Ensign O'Brien has the equipment to probe deep into the center of the issue, and the patience and knowledge to touch on the correct points at length."

I blushed furiously.

"Oh, wow. The Ensign's file indicated he spent well over a century in the ether paying for his sins as an ultra-mysoginist. He openly admits his selfish abuse of women. He is a reformed individual, however, proving a total commitment to the selfless service of women. His actions during his assessment bore this out, as he provided lengthy service with no expectation of relief for his very obvious personal needs."

Sabrina again laughed, "We can vouch for that!"

"She says here this was only the first of two assessments, and that a supplemental report should follow."

It was going to be a long week.

I closed my eyes momentarily, "I am so embarrassed."

Amora made a point of eyeing my crotch. "Really? Your pecker is saying you like it."

My erection had returned with a vengeance.

"You better get some sleep, roomie. With this report out there, you're gonna have an interesting day tomorrow."

Interesting was an understatement. I had an orientation class first thing in the morning, then was assigned to shadow another officer on the bridge in the afternoon.

I learned several things about the functions of the ship during class. While I got several looks, nobody made any sexual demands upon me. Unless you count a couple of officers who fondled or smacked my butt. Pretty mild considering.

The bridge was similar to many sci-fi shows I had seen in my youth. The Captain had a very comfortable command chair in the center of the room, and various stations were around her where she could converse easily with her staff.

One difference was that the bridge was actually located in the bowels of the ship where it could be protected in combat. There were plenty of exterior sensors and cameras so the command staff could see anything they needed to see.

The Captain was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties. She was very fit, I could tell she worked hard to maintain herself. She had an intelligent air about her. I had the impression I could have some interesting conversations with her, were she inclined.

It occurred to me that physically I was about fifteen years her junior, although in actuality I was three times her age and experience. It was hard to fathom.

I can say I had the impression she took notice of me, however she was a busy person with command responsibilities. That is to say, I think she stole a few glances, but I was only one of several new crew members, and she had more important things on her mind.

I spent a couple of hours learning about the science station, security with Lt. Washington (who was very professional) and navigation. She did tell me she had changed her mind. With the scuttlebutt she had been hearing, there was no way I would make it a week on my own. She re-engaged the block on my GCM. I was, oddly, thankful.

Lt. Komura was on station for navigation. She was a mousy woman, small framed and pretty in a simple way. She was nice as she told me about her duties.

I was standing at the back of the bridge at parade rest, just observing.

Lt. Komura turned to the Captain and said, "Ma'am, I would like to take my break if you won't need me for the next half hour or so."

The Captain checked her panel and assented.

Lt. Komura turned her chair sideways to her console, then shimmied her uniform skirt up her hips. She looked straight at me, "Ensign." Then she glanced down between her thighs.

The implication was apparent. I sensed the bridge crew was waiting to see my response.

I walked to the Lieutenant's station, and knelt before her. "Ma'am. With your permission."

She silently spread her legs, revealing her bare, shaven sex. "Please."

I leaned in, placing my mouth to her vulva. Knowing I had less than 30 minutes, I chose not to build up, and covered her already moist sex with my entire mouth, darting my tongue along her outer labia.

I was surprised by her response.

She...squeaked. It was undoubtedly a positive response, but she squeaked.

As I continued, lavishing her labia with kisses, sucking and bathing them with my tongue, she continued to react with high pitched sounds.

After a few minutes the Captain spoke, "Ensign, please carry the Lieutenant to the conference room to service her." Obviously the bridge crew was accustomed to sex on the deck, but also with Lt. Komura's odd vocalizations.

I carried her in my arms to the nearby conference room and lay her gently onto the large table. I then returned to her center and began lashing her swollen clit with my tongue.

She squealed. Loudly.

I continued my efforts. Flattened tongue, pointed tongue. Up, down, right, left, swirl.

She began screaming out in her squeaks as she came, and came, with violent orgasms. I was fortunate. She locked her thighs tightly to my head, muffling the sound of her cries.

When she was finished she straightened her uniform and we returned to the bridge. My shaft was now tumescent and dripping pre-cum.

I tried to stifle a laugh when I realized all of the bridge staff had donned ear plugs or ear phones.

Lt. Komura was unfazed. She simply returned to her station, merely commenting, "A plus, folks."

Lt. Anderson waved me over to the weapons console for a briefing as if nothing had happened.

Such was to be life aboard the Amazon.

I really felt bad for Seaman Franklin Davis III, my roommate, and the others who had not managed to advance beyond their "no semen from Seamen" status.

Frank was damn near apoplectic. With the academy, it had been almost a year since he'd had an orgasm. He and the other seamen were used almost continuously with no relief. Just walking down a corridor or working, or particularly in the recreation lounges, someone would demand cunnilingus, intercourse or a massage. I was under the same constraints, however protocol indicated the demands could not interfere with regular duties. So I got somewhat of a break. When you are at the bottom of the line and your jobs are menial, such as a seaman, there is not much to "interfere" with.

So Frank and his contemporaries were in high demand not because they were anything special. Nor because the crew was sex crazed. But because the crew was so large, there was always a demand, and they were always available.

Frank entered our quarters and fell exhausted onto a chair. He was fairly shaking with need, his face smelled like sex and his penis was throbbing.

Ensign Amora was her usual sparkling self. "If you drip jizz on our deck, you are cleaning it up with your tongue. And no crying!" She paused, then asked in a more sympathetic tone, "Why don't you just study and promote? You're a smart enough guy."

His hand holding his forehead, he spoke quietly. "I try to study. But I'm usually so tired I fall asleep or someone calls me away. And it is so difficult tp concentrate with my hard-on. So what should be easy, isn't."

I had been studying for promotion to 2nd Lieutenant, so I understood. "We're all studying for promotion to something, or ratings. Why don't we start studying together?"

"That'd be great, if they'll leave me alone long enough. Don't get me wrong...I love the sex. But I need to cum so bad."

As if to emphasize his comment, the intercom buzzed, "Seaman Davis, report to rec room six for cunnilingus, forthwith."

Frank sighed deeply and started to get up. Amora stopped him with a wave.

She looked at me, "So you're in on this teamwork thing?"

I nodded. "Of course."

She took charge. "Okay, then you take this one for Little Franky, and me and Sabrina will help him study."

"They'll let me substitute for him?"

"Oh, trust me. From what I've heard about your tongue, they won't complain."

She was right, fortunately. I made some new friends that night, and we started Frank on his way towards a promotion and relief.

I, of course, had my own problems to think about. My "date" with Lt. Washington was only a few days away, and I had no idea what she had planned. While I had more experience dealing with it, my own frustrations grew as I continued to be popular with no release.

Still. I was learning a lot.

I was in the recreation room with Frank, studying, when we observed another seaman, Seaman Kwache, being utilized by a squad of Space Marines. He had performed cunnilingus on ten females, and fellatio on four males, his penis throbbing desperately, when he broke. I could only describe it as...a hissy fit. He cried out, shook uncontrollably, and cursed everyone.

Lt. Washington was nearby, sipping a well-aged whiskey. She casually glanced at me and Frank, "Escort this...individual...to medical. They can help him with his...issue."

When we got to medical, the staff indeed quickly diagnosed Seaman Kwache as experiencing "hysteria" and prescribed a "correction."

We watched in awe as two female medical staff guided him to a plexiglass booth by the wall with a hole and some equipment. When he was placed facing the wall, very strong suction from the wall vent suddenly sucked his very erect manhood into it. He was now locked tightly against the wall. He groaned fiercely as the equipment sucked him vigorously. This went on for what seemed like half an hour.

Kwache gripped two hand bars on the wall tightly...we could see his knuckles turning white. Every muscle in his body seemed to be contracting and releasing. It was apparent that if the device did not have him locked so firmly, he would be fucking the hole in the wall.

It took him to the edge of orgasm several times. But his GCM prevented him from achieving release as usual.

Then a thin cylindrical object slowly injected itself into his anus. Soon he was groaning, crying, and begging as the cylindrical object manipulated his prostate.

Dr. Wilson was sitting at a desk looking over reports on a monitor as all of this went on. She became bored with his begging and crying. Without looking up, she reached over and flipped a switch. The booth was now sound proof. It was strange sitting there in complete silence while we could see Kwache contort and scream.

Within a few moments he was bucking forward violently as the machine drained him of every ounce of semen in his body, while avoiding any semblance of an orgasm. We could see a clear plastic container mounted in the wall filling up with semen.

He sighed...at least he didn't have the pressure of that cum struggling for release, even if he didn't have the relief of a cum.

Again without looking up, Dr. Wilson explained, "In the 19th century, when a woman had a mental breakdown, they would send her to a sanitarium. There, the treatment was often a male doctor using a vibrator to masturbate the woman repeatedly. The thought being that orgasms would relieve stress. We have taken on similar treatment for men."

I looked puzzled. "I had read about that in my previous life. Weren't the orgasms supposed to be the point, though?"

She shrugged. "We can only do what we can do what with regulations. We're stretching things with the prostate milking. We had to find a loophole for that." She held up a finger for us to hold on.

The booth released Kwache, and then became a shower, spraying him with soap and then a rinse like an old fashioned car wash. Then jets of air dried him with no contact whatsoever. The door popped open and he stepped out tentatively.

Dr. Wilson retrieved the cup filled with his semen. She added a dropper full of liquid to it, handed it to him and said curtly, "Drink."

He made a face but did as he was told, draining copious amounts of his own seed.

She looked at me, "That is the loophole. As long as he consumes it, we aren't violating 'no semen from seamen', technically anyway."

"What was the liquid you added, ma'am?"

She guided him over to a bed and indicated he should lie down. "That was a strong sleeping agent. He should sleep for nearly 24 hours. With a good rest he should be able to cope."

Kwache quickly drifted into a peaceful slumber.

She returned to her desk. "You can go now. Unless one of you would like a go in the booth?"

I seriously considered it. But I felt sure I would incur Lt. Washington's wrath if I got the effect of a good milking. I could tell Frank was thinking about it also. But in the end he declined, asking if it was something he could return to do later?

"If you can get a member of the command staff to send you, yes."

When we returned to our quarters, we both half wished we had reconsidered.

Sabrina was pissed. Really pissed.

"You and your damned dick! And your history! You sonofabitch!"

I was confused. "What did I do?"

She stalked around the room. "You have to be able to work your shifts!"

I stared blankly.

"So many people want a session with you before Washington completes her assessment...to fuck with you while you can't cum...that the Captain has assigned me to schedule them around your shifts. I am your fucking Sexual Secretary! FUCK!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Needless to say, the next few days were interesting, arousing, and exhausting. I would drop into a chair in our quarters only to have Sabrina drop a note in front of me with where I was to be forthwith and with who. If I got done early, she often had another waiting for me. Then she would sometimes gleefully point to me when Frank got a call for "service" but they were studying.

Of the dozens of encounters, four stood out as the most interesting.

Lt. Robinson had always wanted to "get a good rogering" outside the ship, on the sensor array. Who the hell thought to design a two person space suit to facilitate such a thing?? We heard a great deal of whooping and hollering over the ship's comm system as she experienced weightless orgasms...and I did not.

Ensign McAdoo had always wanted to be "devoured" while mounted on the oddly phallic sight of the weapons array. Which is always manned by at least half a dozen weapons specialists. She had to get permission from the Captain for that one. I cannot imagine the "balls" it took to approach the commander of the ship, describe her intent, and ask permission to do that! I sure as hell wasn't going to turn her down (even if I could) with that kind of crazy. I think I made some friends of the weapons crew.

Then Commander Groton of the Science Unit wanted to do an experiment. When a ship went into Hyperdrive, there was a period of several seconds in which the entire crew "blanked out." It was unknown if it was mass amnesia, a coma, a spacial anomaly? Nobody knew.